Thought for the Day

Do you think you could inflate an octopus into a hot air balloon, so as you floated through the sky it could grab hold of clouds?

I guess the octopus might not like it.

Also, today I scanned a page from my diary/notebook.

He has all the time in the world...

Atomic April: A Couplet

Atomic April keeps her brain behind glass.
If you think that's silly, she'll kick your arse...

(May require an English accent to get that to rhyme.)

Tentacle Girl

Tentacle girl...
She'll entangle you
In her tentacles...
Her tentacles
Of loooooooove
Oooh-ooh-ooooh...

Na-NO-WriMo

Don't think I'm going to attempt NaNoWriMo this year. Too much on my plate, for one thing. For another, now that I've had a taste of actually finishing a substantial project, I definitely want more. I'm going to keep plugging away at this mute cowboy game until it's done. And I need to watch The Good, the Bad and the Ugly again sometime soon to try and kick-start my brain into nifty execution/rescue scene producing mode, as that is the main thing that has me stumped.

So far the finale looks like this in my head:

Only the evil sheriff will also be there, but I am too tired to try and draw him right now, and it will all be in text anyway. I see a three-way shooting kind of puzzle, where you can shoot the sheriff only to lose Elias, or save Elias only to be shot by the sheriff, so cleverness will be required to live happily ever after. Or 'ride into the sunset' as cowboys call it. (Except I guess it'll actually be noon at this point in the game, so I can't do that.)

Page-o-Doodle

A page of doodles for your appreciation.

Turner Prize now please.

State of Mind

I have been writing these past two months since I last posted a story, just not anything that I've been able to finish. I'm going to try and come up with a little story for this week's Sunday Scribblings, since the prompt seems almost too perfect for me.

In the meantime, here is a short poem:

Little spacecats learn to fly,
Very quickly lest they die,
For in the lowlands of our world,
Poisonous snakes are often curled.

Gyro Jane

As I am sure you are already aware, the Interplanetary Space Cat Council (ISCC) has declared this to be Solar System Gyrocopter Week. I have decided to get into the spirit of the season by creating this intricate rendition of Gyro Jane, the infamous combat gyrocopter pilot who racked up over 73 Moon-man kills during the Earth-Moon war (I am sure that you remember it well), beating Manfred von Richtofen's previous best tally of 2 (both of which were Moon-balloons).

Many recent historians have claimed that Gyro Jane only achieved this remarkable score by tying Moon-men down and hitting them with sticks, but this is ridiculous as everyone knows you can't tie knots on the Moon.

Now Life Is Perfect

I solved all your problems, here.

Quartet

Today I have been making doodles.

Steven Seagal

Is it me or has Steven Seagal gone really cuddly in his old age? When I catch the odd part of some of his more recent action films on Channel 5, he is walking around with a gun like, "I must save the innocent orphan who is being held hostage!" but all I can think is "HUG-HUG-HUG-HUG-HUG-HUG."

Sunday Scribblings: I Have a Secret

I always wanted to make one of these. Click the image to view it in its full ransom-notey glory. This is the result of a pair of scissors, some glue, and a movie magazine I had lying around. It was great not only to find a picture of Cloud from Advent Children, but also to realise that it actually looks quite sinister in this context. And here it is under construction:


No, Jeff Bridges didn't make the cut.

As for your secret, well, you can trust me with it, of course. Because I can trust you with mine, right?

More secrets.

Ghost Milk

Funny phrases are seeking me out and besieging me in the castle of my mind. Goat's milk mispronounced as 'ghost milk', for example (I would not want to drink any).

Watching the credits for a movie, I saw someone credited as the 'electric best boy'. I wish I had been an electric best boy, back when I was young and it was still possible. I imagine an electric best boy is the only kind of boy that you want to put his finger in the plug socket, so you can sell some kilowatt-hours to the national grid.

Artist's Impression

The question for those who know me is, if the police offered a reward for this criminal, would you recognise me to sell me out?

I suppose, it's not unlike me. The trouble is that I know more about proper proportions than I do about drawing from life, so I've kind of normalised my face a bit and it doesn't look quite so weird as it really does.

Also, right now I am scruffy and unshaven, but I am not normally such a troglodyte.

My Namelian

Via Tinker comes this nifty little creative activity: Namelians. It's the kind of thing that you only need the slightest nudge to try out for yourself, I think, especially if you're in a whimsical mood. I tried it with 'Pacian' and came up with the following otherworldly little creature:


As you might expect, I've thought this through too much. This fellow is a filter feeder, drifting through an alien ocean, or perhaps even on the breezes of a denser atmosphere than Earth's. The curly hair-like bits sift for little morsels of food, while the creature hangs suspended from its large orange paddles. The smaller paddles provide stability and fine control. With its big compound eyes, it's able to spot predators coming from quite a way away, which is where the funnels and pointy bulge at the bottom come into play: it can suck water in through the funnels and shoot it out of its tail in a short burst to make a quick escape.

This one is called Bobby.